My Life Would Suck With You
by TeamJ.Black
Summary: He's like a bad luck charm, when she's around him, nothing goes right, so why then does she find herself not wanting to leave him. Troyella Please R
1. I Do Not Hook Up

**Prologue**

_Meet her:_

**Name**:

Gabriella Montez.

**Age:**

23

**Occupation**:

Runway Assistant

**Hobbies**:

Hanging out with co-workers /Going to clubs/ Designing my own line of clothing

**Parents** **Occupations**:

Investors

**Other** **Information**:

I grew up in Laguna Beach, California. My parents own a big house and a lot of land there. I graduated from a fashion design school in Upper California. I moved to Los Angeles to start a career in fashion. I plan to have my own line one day. 

_Meet him:_

**Name**:

Troy Bolton

**Age**:

22

**Occupation**:

Looking for an occupation

**Hobbies:**

Bar hopping/Girls/Sex/Partying/Drinking 

**Parents** **Occupations**:

Dad- high school gym teacher, Mom- third grade school teacher

**Other Information:**

I grew up in a small town on the outskirts of Albuquerque, New Mexico. My parents have never had a lot of money. We've lived in a small house, content with having little. I went to UCLA on a sports scholarship, then blew my knee out, lost it and dropped out. I can't keep more than one job at a time, but I've managed. 

**Chapter One**

"I can not believe that happened!" Gabi exclaimed, talking about the runway show earlier, "I mean seriously? How can five right shoes going missing?"

"I don't know girl, but I have to give you props, how did you get those models to walk like that on two left shoes?" Her best friend, Taylor, asked awed.

"A trick I learned one day when all I could find is the right shoe of both my black converses as well as my white ones." She said, shrugging as if it was no big deal.

"You're way too modest girl. Brag a little!" One of the girls at the table told her.

For Gabi, it really wasn't a big deal. She's been on the runway scene for about a year, so she's basically dealt with every problem that could possibly happen during a show.

"To Gabi and her amazing success today," Another person at the table said, raising their glass of some assortment of alcohol.

"To Gabi!" Everyone at the table toasted.

Gabi downed her shot and ordered another one.

"Was your father a thief? 'Cause someone stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes." Troy told an attractive girl sitting at the bar.

She was wearing a tiny tube top that may as well not exist, and an even shorter mini. She didn't have enough make up on to charge, he figured if she wanted a one-night stand so bad, who he to not oblige to her request.

She looked at him like he was nothing more than a piece of trash.

"That cheesy, used pick-up line isn't getting you anywhere near me, so why don't you put it back in your pants and find someone else who would buy that load of garbage."

So she's a picky one-night stander, probably a first timer just itching to lose it. Good thing she shut him down saves him from having to make up a lame excuse to leave. He knew her type, comes into a club hoping to finally lose it then either chickens out last second or expects some sort of attachment.

He took another swig of his third beer then decided he wanted something stronger. He went an ordered two shots of tequila figuring that should get him blasted enough. He was running low on money, as always, and was having a day full of self-loathing. Better make it three, he thought then ordered another shot.

After downing the first one, he saw an attractive brunette in the corner. He was buzzed now, so he grabbed his two shots and walked over towards her.

"Want to dance?" He asked knowing that was the fastest way to get to her type.

He proceeded to give her one of his tequila shots as she nodded and followed him on the dance floor. Both of them downed it at the same time.

Both of them were now drunk enough to not know what's going on, and to not be able to remember anything tomorrow.

They were both falling over one another on the dance floor and somehow made it into one of the rooms in the club.

Her head hurt. Her face hurt. Her body hurt. She felt sick. At that realization, she ran to the bathroom and threw up al the contents of her stomach. As soon as she could move again without puking, she got up and walked to the bedroom. She mentally groaned: this was the fifth time in the past two months this has happened. Thankfully she's on the pill but this was seriously becoming a bad habit.

She got dressed and left, noting that he probably did the same earlier. With that thought, came another. She didn't even know his name. At least with the others she knew that much about them, god was she turning into some sort of slut like her high school classmates?

As she walked out towards the sun, she forgot that thought. The light made her head feel like it was about to split open. As she walked home, all she could think of was some pain medications, a hot shower, and a nice cozy bed.


	2. Impossible

**Chapter Two**

A few days later, she was running late to work; she was driving about ten miles over the speed limit and wasn't paying attention. She didn't see a stop sign. As she crossed the intersection, another car did the same. The result: the front end of the other person's car being smashed, the whole right side of her car being smashed in.

Just her luck, her meeting with the head CEO and his guest (aka the meeting that could possibly give her a huge promotion as well as pay-raise) was in fifteen minutes and now she'll probably be spending the next few hours talking to her insurance, the police, the tow guy, the mechanic, and the list went on. She groaned and got out of her car and started to apologize.

"I am so sorry! I didn't see you there! I am so so sor-," she stopped recognizing his face. Well this was an interesting twist: she's going to get to know the guy she slept with, after she slept with him and because of a car accident to top it all off. Well life does always find a way to make it more interesting.

He wasn't paying attention, his landlord just told him in ten days he's going to get kicked out if he doesn't come up with the hundred dollar rent he owes. He didn't see the 4-way stop sign and went straight by it, resulting in him running into another car. _Shit _how was he going to pay for that?

He got out of his car about to start apologizing when he saw her: the girl from the club. Well isn't that ironic?

"Are you okay?" He asked, wanting to know if he was going to have to pay for some kind of trauma suit against him. Yeah because that's so what he needed: her rich parents suing him for money he doesn't have, so they can afford to bring her somewhere nice to recuperate, yeah as if they didn't have enough money to send her around the world and back, he thought bitterly.

"Yeah," she replied after a moment, "Yeah, I'm alright. Are you?"

"Yeah, my car's probably dead, but I'm alright." He joked trying to lighten the mood. She didn't laugh, or even smile. Well okay kill joy, I thought your type was supposed to be ditzy and fun, he thought to himself.

After three hours of phone calls, questions, more phone calls and waiting, the police finally allowed her to leave. She found out his name: Troy Bolton. She found out his number, his address, his whole life story almost. Well maybe not that much but more than she knew about her other one-night stands.

While waiting for a taxi, he approached her.

"Gabi," he said as if pondering her name, "Such a sexy name, for such a sexy woman."

She couldn't believe it, they just got into a wreck and he's hitting on her.

"It's Gabriella, not Gabi, got it? Good, now buh-bye," she said while rolling her eyes. She got in the taxi and headed off to work, hoping she didn't lose her job over this incident.

Luck was obviously not on her side: she got fired. Fired, she had to repeat again and again in her head. She couldn't believe it. She refused to believe that she got fired.

Apparently when you stand-up your CEO and his co-worker you get let go; even if you got in a major car wreck. What was she supposed to do, tell the police and the insurance company to hold on?

Of all the rotten luck, and considering she always had such great luck this was truly a shock for her.

As she rode home she thought about what this was going to do to her career.

Ruin it, she concluded. She was working for one of the best fashion businesses in the world, and she got fired for missing a meeting. That right there ruins any good recommendations. That was her first and only job. No one in the fashion industry would hire her.

She groaned and rubbed her temples, trying to relieve the throbbing ache in her head. Thankfully, her family was well off and her parents were more than happy to help her out should she need it. That managed to calm her down.

Now all she had to do was tell her parents she pretty much totaled her fifth car in the past year, and she lost her only job. That should go all real well: Mom, Dad, I totaled my car, again. Oh and the only reason I'm calling to tell you this instead of waiting for you to find out from the insurance bill, is I got fired so I need some money.

They'll be thrilled.

Stupid Troy Bolton.

Little did she know she'd being going through many more bad luck surprises, all with the stupid Troy Bolton in her presence.

As he walked to the nearby coffee shop, both to apply for a job there and to get a drink, he couldn't help but think of her. Most of the girls he slept with, he found out the next day they weren't as pretty as he thought they were. He didn't like attachments so if he ever saw them again, he looked away.

She was different. She was beautiful, more than beautiful, she was stunning. He heard from a few of his older married friends, that when they saw the women they married, the world stopped and all they could see was her. Troy, being the playboy he was, always laughed at how corny that sounded. Oddly enough, it didn't seem so corny now.

He watched a tall, lanky brunette with long legs walked by him, whatever he was thinking about was forgotten as he chased her down.


	3. Whyyawannabringmedown?

**Chapter Three**

_One week later_

She was nervous; it's been years since her last interview and even then it'd only been for an internship. She was also mortified; from the world of fashion to the fast food industry, she thought bitterly.

She couldn't understand how this had happened; her parents always have given her money no matter what with no strings attached. All of a sudden they tell her she has to have a job to get 'help' money.

Yet, here she was, sitting there waiting for her name to be called. She was one of the ten other people there waiting for their interview.

She looked around, mentally sizing up her competition. One guy was missing two teeth, the women next to him had the worst spilt ends, and the next girl had a horrible perm (did she think this was the 80s?), the next was balding; the next could use some make-up, the next…..

She blinked.

Oh god, she thought to herself, not him, not here.

Deciding she could simply call her parents and explain her situation: she just couldn't even get anyone to interview her, she got up and started heading for the door out. When she passed him, she ducked her head and angled her body away from his.

When she got outside the hallway she and the rest of the hopeful employees to be were, she all but tried to run out of the restaurant.

Just when she got a good, face pace built up, she felt someone grab her arm.

"Back off you cree-," She stopped when she saw it was a manager who works there, "Sorry, you scared me," she said, hoping that he'd believe her.

"Aren't you here for an interview?"

No. "Yes," she admitted.

"Where are you going?" He asked with one eyebrow raised.

"To get some fresh air," she lied, "I'm kind of nervous and started to feel claustrophobic in there."

He looked at her skeptically not really believing her lie, but he nodded, "Alright, I'll send someone out for you when your name is called."

"Thanks," was all she could manage to say. She couldn't believe that not only did she just lie to one of her potential bosses, but she had to stay for the interview now.

Just when she thought things couldn't get worse, he walked out.

She heard him using something along the lines of what she said.

"Gabi!" She then heard him yell.

She cringed, then turned around and put on a fake smile, "Troy! What a coincidence! But please, call me Gabriella." She politely corrected him.

He ignored her, "So why you here? Rich girl like you should be at some place with caviar right?"

She kept her smile to keep herself from crying, "Magazine article," she lied, "It's a story about changing the uniforms of the fast food industries. How hard it is you know?" Lame lie, she thought to herself.

He seemed to accept it, all he did was nod.

"Um, why are you here?"

"Don't you know?"

She shook her head, lost.

"You're so fine, you make me want to go out and get a job."

She rolled her eyes.

"Where do you get your pick-up lines? www. I-can't-get-a-date. com?"

"Good one, where do you get your comebacks? www. I-can't-lie-for-shit. com?

He could see the emotions running across her face: anger, sadness, anger, frustration, more anger.

She didn't say anything.

"Yeah princess, I may not be a spoiled rich kid, but I'm not dumb, you really think I was going to believe that magazine line? What happened, mommy and daddy cut you off?"

"Why you littl-," she started to say. He stopped her.

"Were you about to curse? Well we can't have that, I mean think about what your manner's coach would say?"

"Shut up."

"Oh, did I offend you? Well we can't have the princess offended, shou-,"

"Get the hell off my case! You don't know a damn thing about me. You call me a hypocrite? Well look in the mirror, you're just as bad."

"Was that an insult?" he said faking being offended.

"You better f***ing believe it was! Out of all the guys I know, you are without a doubt the biggest asswho-," she was cut off.

With no preamble, he took her by her waist and pulled her towards him, at the same time crushing his lips against hers.

At first, taken by surprise, she didn't do anything. After a moment, instead of fighting back, which was what her brain wanted her to do, she found herself opening her mouth for him to let him kiss her deeper.

When she finally got some of her sense back, she pushed at him. When he let her go she hit him with her purse.

"What the hell?" He asked rubbing his arms.

"I should be asking you the same question."

"Well, I was kissing you, and you seemed to like it."

She scoffed at that, "Are you on crack? I could consider that sexual abuse you know."

"No, I'm not high, merely just intoxicated by you." He replied ignoring the second half of what she said.

She rolled her eyes and walked away, knowing it was futile to fight with him.

"Wait!"

"What?"

"You're forgetting something."

She looked down to see if she had her purse, yes.

"What?" She finally asked him.

"Me."

She turned around and continued walking. Her phone started to ring.

"Hello?"

"Ella, we have some bad news."


End file.
